If You Were My Friend
by Calyn
Summary: Wybie and Coraline are friends and more. Songfic, fluff. Mostly movie with a little bit of book.


Fluff. Sort of. I hope.

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_I would try to cheer you up whenever you're sad_

Coraline wore her green-and-orange gloves every day for months. Over time they developed holes, which Coraline tried to patch. And then she wore holes into the holes, and her mother refused to let her wear the gloves anymore. But Coraline wouldn't throw them away. She _couldn't_ throw them away.

How could she explain to her no-nonsense mother that the gloves were _special_, that the tattered woolen rags were a cherished proof that little gifts from the heart were more precious than an entire World of wonders?

She couldn't, of course.

So she told Wybie. A thoughtful look crossed his face and he examined the remains of one glove closely, nose almost touching the fabric and eyes crossed. He looked funny, and she laughed, and promptly forgot about his interest.

Three weeks later he nervously presented her with a pair of clumsily knitted gloves. The green was too bright and the orange was too dark and the yarn was chunky and there were two left pinkies, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to mind much.

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_We would always talk things through, so we won't be mad_

"Oh shut up. You're my _boyfriend_ and I _like_ you, jerkwad, and you know what they say about the word 'assume.' So I'm not going to assume anything. Instead, how about _you_ tell me why Bella Cullen was kissing you?"

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_In the cafeteria, I'd save you a seat_

"Oy, Jonesy! Wanna sit over h-here?"

"Sure!"

He never had to ask again.

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_I'd share my lunch with you, even my treat_

"You know, I'll n-_never_ believe you can possibly like lime j-jello with tabasco sauce and m-marshmallows more than I do."

"Just be glad I share it with you, Moped Man."

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_I would still write you letters when you're ninety-two_

Coraline could never figure why the otherwise-mechanically-minded Wyborne refused to adopt modern communication styles. In vain she pointed out that email was cheaper and easier and faster than stamped envelopes. He stuck to his letters.

She suspected he'd be writing her letters when they were in their nineties.

Not that she'd mind, if they were still dorky love notes.

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_I would still come to your parties if your hair turned blue_

Two days before Wybie's sixteenth birthday party, he was ambushed in the woods by five masked ruffians.

Fortunately, said ruffians were about his age and unarmed. Unfortunately, they were stronger than him and skilled in the art of rapid hair dying. Wybie went home with bright blue dreadlocks. His grandmother refused to let him dye his hair brown again.

More than half the people on the guest list didn't come to the party, afraid to be seen with him.

Coraline, though...she turned up, of course.

_And_ her hair was neon orange.

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_If you were my friend, I'd be a lucky lucky lucky boy_

Wybie couldn't figure out why Coraline liked him so much, why she would settle for him when half the boys in school would have gladly taken his place. True, his posture had improved greatly, and his hair was no longer so wild, and he had lost his stutter, but he still talked irrepressibly about motorbikes and slug species and spicy jello. He didn't get it.

So he chalked it up to luck.

He would be very surprised when he learned the real reason.

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_I'd look forward to the time I'd spend with you_

"As if you and that little gal haven't always been joint at the hip whenever possible, Wyborne. No, I 'spect she'll accept. And I reserve full right to walk you down th'aisle."

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_If you were my friend, I'd be a lucky lucky lucky girl_

Coraline considered herself fortunate to have found someone who was a best friend as well as a husband.

Even if he did sometimes refer to his motorbikes as his babies.

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_Cause things are so much fun when there are two_

"Huh. I think I've been here before."

"Really?"

"Yes. After I saved the ghost children. We had a picnic. It was a dream."

"I don't think it is this time."

"They were going on to explore uncharted lands. Doesn't that sound fun?"

"Only if you'll be there."

"Spoken like a true sappy dork."

"But I'm _your_ sappy dork, Coraline Jones."

"You better believe it, Wyborne Lovat."

And hand in hand, they crossed the little wooden bridge into eternity.

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Except for the cafeteria one, they're in chronological order. The lyrics are excerpted from a kid's song I like, and I _highly_ doubt the owners will care. And before anyone freaks out, Bella Cullen is part of an OC family of mine, who unluckily all share their names or nicknames with Twilight characters.


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